Heesun’s Table #2: Ritual Like Movies
Film Bros, MoviePass (RIP), and a preview of “EVIL DOES NOT EXIST”.
Up until a few years ago, I avoided watching movies.
There was very little reasoning as to why I didn’t watch movies, other than intimidation and my supposed lack of time. Part of it was also the community. Film bros were rampant where I grew up, and nearly every (white) guy I went on a date with in college recommended I watched “Inglorious Basterds” with them. I don’t know how many times I’ve watched that movie. It got to a point where I could identify it within the first few seconds of listening to it — the opening sequence’s charismatic music and sounds of a monotonous axe.
Those bros didn’t realize I watched “Inglorious Basterds” with my dad when it originally came out in 2009. I was ten, and I’m still unsure as to why my dad encouraged me to watch it at the time. It was one of the many movies he would rip off the internet via Korea.(He also watched “Ringu” with my sister and I when we were kids. Not sure if I should be grateful for that viewing or look further into that with my therapist..)
Clearly, movies were introduced to me at a young age. I never really thought much of them, though. Being an actor, or even being involved in the industry, came at a later time. There was never that moment of looking on the screen and thinking, “I’m going to be a star!” I thought movies were for entertainment, a history lesson, or an occasional scare. Or all of the above.
Post-Tarantino, I began to reintroduce myself to movies. This was motivated, initially, by my growing focus on playwriting. Everyone and their mother told me that most playwrights didn’t make money by being playwrights, but by writing for TV and film1. I was particularly monastic in this period, living-for-the-sake-of-writing, and had a newfound determination to “get” movies and be a part of the film community. I even made a goal of watching one movie a day, and created a Letterboxd account in an attempt to become one with the film bros. This was also the summer where MoviePass (IYKYK) made its grand debut. The popcorn was flowing, MoviePass profits were tanking, and I had a budding love for movies on my hands.
Over the years, I’ve lessened the pressure of analyzing screenplays and creative choices as to why they shot from this angle versus that. Going to the movies has instead become something of a meditative act. I prefer going to the theater, as I can turn off my phone, sip something warm, and focus on the story in front of me. With the growing prices of Broadway, I find it to be the more accessible venue of entertainment. In many ways, it’s more accessible than theatre. I still remember watching “Minari” for the first time, the swell of emotions that I experienced, finally witnessing a story that felt representative of mine.
Before starting rehearsals for my current job, I would try and watch one or two movies a week. Most of the time, I’d go to the Film Forum on West Houston. (Side note: their membership program is so ridiculously good. If you’re based in the city, I highly recommend.) For bigger titles, I’d go to any AMC or Regal. Other theaters, like The Roxy or Metrograph, I’d go to for lesser-known movies or special screenings. It became a ritual, to go in and watch a new movie weekly. I would go alone, with friends, or make friends at the theater. I have yet to leave a movie feeling worse than I did walking into it - unless the purpose of the movie was to make me feel that way. Still, I’d have an appreciation of the effectiveness in its storytelling - so was I really feeling worse?
In order to watch movies, you gotta have change in the bank. Movies ain’t free, after all. I started rehearsals for the new show and, naturally, my schedule got busier. My availability was being whittled down, until the pockets of time I had were left to do the life tasks: laundry, grocery shopping, sleeping. I went to the movies less and less, and became more focused on doing my new job well. When I began to find a rhythm in my schedule, I started to fill that free time with other projects. I said “yes” to nearly everything. There was an unsettled feeling in my gut, of wanting to express myself and my creativity that I am unable to do daily as a swing.2 Wanting to resolve that feeling, I tried to fill my time doing every concert, audition, play reading, and writing assignment I could. I lasted about three weeks, until I managed to get myself sick after a 48 hour stint of not eating or sleeping well enough. (You can’t rely on a snack size bag of Himalayan Salt Lesser Evil popcorn to get you through a 15 hour day.)
On my first day off in months, instigated by a high fever, I was bedridden and unable to get work done. As an ex-smoker and self-proclaimed caffeine addict, I knew I was in withdrawal. From work. What the HELL was I going to do with a full Saturday to myself?! REST?!
I was a sad lump on the couch, mourning the loss of a day when I realized: I was mourning the loss of a day. A day. Why was it so painful to be out of commission for twenty four hours, to be laying comfortable on my couch and allowing myself to rest?
This dribbled into the days that followed. Signs of burnout were evident with my short temper, lack of motivation in menial tasks, and prolonged fatigue. Wanting to return to some sort of normalcy, I looked at the week ahead and tried to find what I was missing.
Ritual.
From 7AM to 10:30PM, Monday through Sunday, there was no sign of ritual. Ritual, in the form of freewriting. Ritual, in listening to music that wasn’t a MIDI track or demo of a song written the night before. Ritual, in calling my loved ones. Ritual, in movies. Ritual, in being with myself - not the creative or writer or actor or swing or caretaker or whatever the world asks me to be that day. How could I reunite with ritual, when I was barely scraping by with the remaining reserves of energy I had left?
I needed to rest. I would do more of the heavy lifting later. Motivated by this discovery, I went to the Film Forum website. Scanning their schedule, I noticed a flurry of screenings I hadn’t seen before.
Ryūsuke Hamaguchi’s newest film, “EVIL DOES NOT EXIST”, was coming to the Forum. It’s hard to find dates where I can watch movies, as they often clash with the performance and rehearsal schedule.
Ritual works as a reminder.
There was a Tuesday showing at 12:30. I didn’t have work until 6:30, and I could make it to a put-in if the movie wasn’t more than two hours long.
A reminder that that I’m not a product of other people’s visions, but an individual directing my life..
According to Letterboxd, the movie was one hundred and six minutes.
..with deep consideration of my own values.
Autofill feels especially nice for frantic purchases, like the one I was having in that moment.
Ritual is a means to return to myself.
I got my ticket with my membership discount. Tuesday, I’d be going to the movies.
I’ll be writing about my experience at “EVIL DOES NOT EXIST” on my next entry.
In retrospect, I realize most playwrights make their rent by writing for TV. I chose to focus on movies over TV because TV was, and remains, wonderfully mindless to me. True entertainment. I didn’t want to release the iron-grip I had on reality TV and K-Dramas.
This will be discussed at another time. I will clarify for now, I love being a swing.